


Chances

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Post 4x9, Daisy and Coulson talk about taking chances.





	

For a guy who's shouldered a lot of responsibility, Coulson's pretty good at taking things a day at a time.

Sometimes she wishes she could be more like him in that sense.

She _worries_.

He told her that, once.

That she wears her heart on her sleeve _and_ her face.

He's not wrong about that.

Even though she has, admittedly, gotten a little better at a poker face, she thinks?

Maybe?

Okay, not really.

Losing Vijay was hard. She's used to losing at this point, but c'mon here.

Walking away with the Watchdogs?

Then again, she can understand, at times, when there are ties that bind you.

Like her and Coulson.

He's looking at her like he wants to talk, but he's hanging back.

He's been that way since she came back. Giving her some space.

Which, she appreciates, but, she could use someone to talk to right now.

"I heard you lost one today," he says, coming to stand beside where she's sitting on the counter. "I'm sorry."

It makes her smile, a bit wistfully. Because she missed this about him.

"It's okay," she replies, lifting her beer to take a sip. "He decided to walk away, actually. I feel bad for Simmons."

She glances over to see if she's still in the room, but she's left for the evening.

Actually, now that she thinks about it, everyone's gone.

All up in her head, she lost track of time.

"Maybe he'll change his mind," he answers kindly. "You didn't force him to come, after all."

"That's true." She can't really hide the smile on her face, and she looks up to meet his eyes, finding him drawing closer to her.

"What?" he asks, like he's a bit puzzled.

"You're good at that," she tells him. "Giving people space."

"Oh," he nods and starts to pull back.

"Maybe a little _too_ good?" she interjects, putting her hand on his sleeve.  Then he relaxes, a look of amusement hovering on his face.

"It's funny you say that."

She leans forward, because he's using his sharing voice.

He turns to face her and puts his hands into his pockets, and then looks down thoughtfully, like he's arranging something in his head.

"May said that I should take more chances."

"What brought that on?" she reacts. Because it's not like May to give that kind of advice. Usually it's the opposite, in fact.

But, hey, if May wants to encourage him, _go May_.

"She asked how I hold everything in. And I said, I have a good poker face."

How is it that they're both still here, practically thinking about the same thing.

"Yeah, bet you're _terrible_ at poker," she teases, and takes another drink. "The face, on the other hand-"

"I am," he smiles, looking away again. "I'm going to take that as a compliment-"

"It was meant in a nice way," she grins. "An _endearing_ kind of way."

"Then I feel _endeared_."

They've done this before, and after everything they've been through, how strange it feels like a new thing for them to be standing here in the kitchen joking around like this now.

Flirting?

A little of that, too. She's enjoying it.

It seems like the perfect opportunity, actually, to-

"So, when are you going to start?" she asks, suddenly, jolting them out of their awkward silence.

"Start what?" he asks.

She can't tell if he's feigning, and tilts her head at him.

"Oh, chances, right," he fesses up, then furrows his brow. "Yeah. Do you have any pointers?"

"Clearly, I'm not risk adverse, between the two of us."

"Hey, I'm not risk adverse, either," he frowns back.

"I mean, I take lots of chances, even chances I probably shouldn't take," she holds out her empty bottle to him. " _Impulsive_. Will you-"

He takes it from her and turns around to throw it away for her.

"Do you want another?" he asks.

"Do you want-"

"Sure," he replies, moving to the fridge and opening it to dig out two more bottles of beer.

He pops off the top with his hand then offers her one and puts the bottle caps on the counter next to her.

"Cheers," she says, tipping her bottle at him.

Clinking his bottle against hers, he takes a sip and looks at her a bit curiously, she thinks.

"Are you ever going to answer my-"

"I'm still deciding," he interrupts, sounding contemplative. "I don't know that I do impulsive."

"I mean, just look at it as an extreme form of chance-taking," she flutters her eyes at him, taking a sip.

"I don't think of you as a person of extremes, Daisy."

He always manages to find the nicest things to say. It's been a long time since she's had someone say nice things to her.

A really long time.

Something just, _nice_ , and not a backhanded compliment, or some kind of point of comparison, like they're in competition.

She wishes he would say another nice thing.

"You risk a lot, but for the right reasons."

Like that.

"I wish I could say that were true," she shakes her head while he drinks, "But some things...."

"Some things aren't your fault. It doesn't mean you were wrong to try."

Now she's the curious one, since he's opened the door here.

"Do you not try things because you think it's for the wrong reasons?"

He purses his lips together and sighs while he mulls it over.

"No. It's more like a calculated risk? If I'm not sure of my chances-"

"You'll just kind of roll with what you have versus what you might lose?"

"Yes," he answers, like it's some kind of heavy admission. "Take Audrey, for instance?"

He clears his throat and starts to gesture with his hands, clearly nervous about sharing this, but she wants him to open up to her.

"Tell me," she asks him.

"Things were nice, and we were having fun, but, work got in the way."

She waits, but that's all he says.

"What?! Coulson," she interrupts, kicking her foot out at him. "You died. That wasn't your fault!"

"It kind of was," he smiles an ornery smile, catching the toe of her boot for a moment. "In all fairness, I was going to shoot him."

"With your big gun."

"With my big gun," he repeats, his smile widening.

They laugh together and then it goes quiet, and she kicks at him again.

"You were afraid to ask her for more, huh?"

"I was afraid it wasn't real," he admits. "What was she going to see in a guy like me? I would never have met her if I hadn't stopped Daniels. I didn't want to leave SHIELD."

"That's terrible! What is wrong with you?" she asks, setting her beer down and hopping off the counter. "You're a great guy! And not just because you're a SHIELD agent."

"Roz," he goes on. "I thought she'd understand me, know what she was getting into. That we were alike. And then..."

She's not going to speak ill of the dead, but no, they're nothing alike. Not at all.

"That wasn't your fault. It wasn't wrong for you to try," she says, giving him his own words, and a tug on his shirt sleeve.

"I mean, there's a saying about someone being out of your league for a reason."

"I don't know anyone who is out of your league, Coulson."

And she means it. She's looking at him and wondering what he doesn't see? He's handsome, and kind, heroic, and those soft blue eyes.

"Phil," he tells her. "And that's really too nice. Almost a little too-"

"Phil," she repeats back to him, interrupting, lifting her chin to him, challenging.

"I do," he nods, looking cocky. "Several people, actually."

"Who?" she asks, reaching for her beer and raising her eyebrows as she drinks.

He opens his mouth to say something, but then bites down on his bottom lip.

" _Captain Rogers?_ " she teases, saying it very slow and deliberately.

Then he looks down at the floor, like he's almost blushing, but that can't be true, Coulson doesn't blush.

"Yes, actually," he finally answers, still looking down. "That's one."

"You're good enough for Captain America," she tells him, stepping closer to him, so that his eyes dart up to hers, and he backs himself against the counter. "Who else?"

His face has developed a slightly terrified expression, and she's starting to wonder if she pushed too hard and needs to back off.

"You," he says quickly, like he's forcing it out, when she takes a step backwards.

_Oh._

She glances away for a moment, because she's kind of shocked, but then...it makes sense.

If you take out the part where she's been avoiding this for years, actually. For the same reasons?

It's possible.

Huh.

All she wanted was to have a beer and talk, not fix everything in one day.

Her hands land on her hips and then she scratches her forehead, finally staring back at him.

He looks frozen in terror. And, yeah, she gets it.

"You didn't want to lose me, so you-"

"And I was your boss," he adds with a small shrug. "Not really anyone's fault.  Also-"

"You're not my boss anymore," she points out right away.

"Although," he says. "There are the Sokovia Accords. And SHIELD's policy around that is-"

She tips her chin up at him again, and gives a wide smile, slowly blinks.

"Which you undoubtedly do not care about," he finishes, then swallows, watching her take his beer out of his hand and set it on the counter with hers.

"I do not."

"This is the part where I'm supposed to be impulsive, right?" he says, sounding way too apologetic and full of nerves.

"It's okay," she says, leaning up against him, so close that their faces almost touch. "I've got this."

She watches until he closes his eyes and then she presses her lips to his.

Kissing someone you already love this much is kind of a rush.

Or, he's a really good kisser.

Definitely. Coulson is a _really_ good kisser.

But it's these _feelings_.

She hasn't ever kissed someone she felt this way about before.

She's kissed people she _thought_ she could feel this way about. Hoped to.

So careful, and nice. Taking his time, and holding her face between his hands like she's something dear to him.

It's the best first kiss she's ever had, and she stares at his lips as he pulls back, reddened and smiling.

A smile with teeth and everything.

And he looks like he would just stand there for hours, staring into her eyes like this.

It's a good thing she's impulsive.


End file.
